hts, no flutterings, no cooing
murmur; something that ought to have made their day glad and bright
was evidently left out of this day's history. And, furthermore, Hilda's
white window-curtain was closely drawn, with only that one little
aperture at the side, which Miriam remembered noticing the night before.

"Be quiet," said Miriam to her own heart, pressing her hand hard upon
it. "Why shouldst thou throb now? Hast thou not endured more terrible
things than this?"

Whatever were her apprehensions, she would not turn back. It might
be--and the solace would be worth a world--that Hilda, knowing nothing
of the past night's calamity, would greet her friend with a sunny smile,
and so restore a portion of the vital warmth, for lack of which her soul
was frozen. But could Miriam, guilty as she was, permit Hilda to kiss
her cheek, to clasp her hand, and thus be no longer so unspotted from
the world as heretofore.

"I will never permit her sweet touch again," said Miriam, toiling up
the staircase, "if I can find strength of heart to forbid it. But, O! it
would be so soothing in this wintry fever-fit of my heart. There can be
no harm to my white Hilda in one parting kiss. That shall be all!"

But, on reaching the upper landing-place, Miriam paused, and stirred not
again till she had brought herself to an immovable resolve.

"My lips, my hand, shall never meet Hilda's more," said she.

Meanwhile, Hilda sat listlessly in her painting-room. Had you looked
into the little adjoining chamber, you might have seen the slight
imprint of her figure on the bed, but would also have detected at once
that the white counterpane had not been turned down. The pillow was more
disturbed; she had turned her face upon it, the poor child, and bedewed
it with some of those tears (among the most chill and forlorn that gush
from human sorrow) which the innocent heart pours forth at its first
actual discovery that sin is in the world. The young and pure are not
apt to find out that miserable truth until it is brought home to them by
the guiltiness of some trusted friend. They may have heard much of
the evil of the world, and seem to know it, but only as an impalpable
theory. In due time, some mortal, whom they reverence too highly,
is commissioned by Providence to teach them this direful lesson; he
perpetrates a sin; and Adam falls anew, and Paradise, heretofore in
unfaded bloom, is lost again, and dosed forever, with the fiery swords
gleaming at i